


surrender

by cresswell



Category: The Naturals - Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, I'm so sorry, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8123590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswell/pseuds/cresswell
Summary: He leans back in and sucks a kiss beneath her ear, making her squirm. “Of course,” he murmurs, scraping his teeth softly over the skin. “Whatever you want.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> anon on tumblr requested a dean/cassie fic and i don't think this was what they had in mind. I'M SO SORRY i don't know why i wrote this. i just finished all in and there was That Scene that was very ambiguous but i feel liked they fucked tbh so. i don't know. i feel like cassie loves to make dean feel loved and valued by pleasing him so that's part of it?? but also dean loves to make her feel good ofc. anyways. im sorry

Cassie wakes up to the feel of the sheets being ripped off her legs, the mattress creaking and shaking beneath her. She blinks awake blearily, reaching out for Dean, but-- he’s not there.

Now she’s awake, sitting up with wild hair and wide eyes, and she grasps at the empty bed while waiting for eyesight to adjust. Dean is hunched over the edge of the bed, tension etched in his shoulders, and Cassie reaches out a hand. “Dean--?”

Her voice is rough and broken from sleep, and Dean flinches as soon as her hand touches his back, shifting away from her. “I’m sorry,” he whispers roughly. “Go back to sleep.”

But Cassie’s never been good at taking orders. She sits up on her knees and drapes herself across his back, her cheek pressed into the back of his neck. “What’s wrong?”

She knows, of course, that he’s had a nightmare. He has nightmares more often than not, but it doesn’t seem to get any easier. He touches her hand where it’s wrapped around his arm and glances at her. “I had a dream you were taken. Again.” He breathes out a quiet laugh. “But don’t worry about me.”

Cassie huffs out a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. She feels him shiver against her chest and a moment later, a patch of red blooms on his neck. Her heart tightens and she presses closer to him, nuzzling against his shoulder. “We worry about each other. It’s what we do.”

“I know,” he agrees quietly. He falls silent, and she knows they’re both thinking about when she and Agent Sterling had been kidnapped and he had found her in the woods and gripped her in his arms like he was never going to let go.

The memory of him holding her makes her feel warm and loved, and she presses impossibly closer to Dean, brushing her lips over his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there,” she says softly against his skin, knowing they’re both thinking of the same thing.

Dean’s eyelids flutter and Cassie smiles against his jaw. “I had to be there. I had to-- to make sure you were okay.”

His voice sounds strained now that she’s kissing along his neck, and she presses her lips to him again, feeling the skin burn beneath her mouth. He tilts his head slightly, granting her better access, and she absolutely loves when he’s like this-- needy and pliant and unabashed. She grips his hips in her hands and pulls him back until he sprawls out on his back, gazing up at her with wide eyes. In the dark, he’s tinted blue, and Cassie crawls over him and covers his mouth with her own.

Immediately, he cups her jaw in his hand and runs his hand over her back, pulling her close. His lips are soft and careful and she melts against him, she sheets bundled and messed up around them, and he rolls them over without warning so that he’s above her, pressing her hands gently into the mattress.

He trails his mouth from the corner of her lips to the neckline of her t-shirt, hovering just at the top of her breasts, and she gasps quietly, arching into his touch. “Please,” she says, just a breath of a word, and Dean makes a soft sound in his throat before sliding his hands beneath her shirt and along the planes of her stomach. She shivers almost violently, gripping his shoulder, and bites down on her lip when his fingers brush the bare skin of her breast.

They’re in a run-down motel room on a case, and Lia’s gone off doing god knows what, meaning they’re alone. They _never_ get to be alone. The isolation gives Cassie the nerve to make little breathy sounds in her throat as he touches her, kissing every bit of skin he can reach, and she winds her legs around his hips.

He moves his lips back to hers again, this time giving her a searing kiss, and she runs her hands through his hair. She loves how gentle and sweet he his with her, but she also loves making him unravel. He rubs his thumbs over her nipples until they’re hard and she’s biting down on his lip, writhing against his body. “Dean,” she pants, dragging her hands down his arms, “ _please_.”

He pulls back enough to look her in the eye, an eyebrow slightly raised. “You want--?”

“Anything,” she says, a little embarrassed about sounding so desperate. “Just-- more, please.”

He leans back in and sucks a kiss beneath her ear, making her squirm. “Of course,” he murmurs, scraping his teeth softly over the skin. “Whatever you want.”

She lifts her hips so he can slide her pajama pants off, his hands running along the bare skin of her legs. He always touches her like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get another chance to again. She’s about to say something-- probably something dumb about how his touch makes her feel lightheaded-- but then he slides his hand down the front of her underwear and she’s not able to form coherent words.

“Is this okay?” He whispers against her jaw, sucking a hickey against her collarbone. “I can stop, or do something else--”

“No,” Cassie says, cutting him off. Now _she’s_ the one who sounds strained, and she digs her nails into his biceps. “Keep going.”

He nods, sliding his hand lower, and Cassie gives a sharp gasp when his fingers brush against her. She wriggles her shirt up higher and higher on her belly until it’s rucked up above her breasts, and Dean gets the hint and starts sucking kisses against the skin there. Cassie is absolutely in bliss, and the only thing that could make it better is if he would finally just touch--

He drags his finer along her clit and she makes a strangled sound, arching her back. He takes the opportunity to bite down gently, sucking a hickey against the top of her breast, and she whines. “Stop teasing,” she demands.

“Be patient,” he chastises.

She huffs in annoyance, canting her hips up into his hand. It gives her the friction she desires and she sighs, running her fingers through his hair. Dean must realize that if he doesn’t get on with it she’ll get herself off against his hand, and while she’s sure he’d still like that very much, he must not prefer it, because he slides a finger between her folds and slowly pushes it inside.

Cassie gasps again, and Dean takes one of her nipples into his mouth, and it’s altogether too much and not enough. He moves his finger in and out of her slowly, the heel of his hand grinding against her clit each time, and Cassie can’t seem to hold herself still. She’s tugging at his hair, digging her heels into his back, bringing her hand to her mouth to bite down on it-- she realizes belatedly that she’s reciting a chant of “please please please” over and over again.

He slips another finger inside of her and rubs his thumb in painfully slow circles against her clit, his teeth scraping against her breasts, and it’s absolutely delicious. She starts rolling her hips up against his hand and he lets her, dragging his mouth back up her neck. She can hear how he’s breathing nearly as roughly as she is, and she realizes he’s probably hard, and the thought makes her whimper.

He must know she’s close, because he pulls his fingers out of her and focuses entirely on her clit instead, and it’s exactly what she didn’t know she wanted. She throws her head back and moans, feeling the tight, quick circles he rubs into her, and realizes suddenly she’s about to come. She tangles her fingers in his hair, grinding against his hand, and he bites just beneath her ear and slides his fingers back inside her suddenly, the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit, and that’s all it takes.

She comes and digs her nails into his back, her lips parting so she can say his name in a broken moan. He works her through it, his touch turning gentle, his kisses becoming feather-soft. She shudders and gasps until the stars disappear from her vision, and then she deflates against the bed, unhooking her legs from around his waist.

He pulls back to look at her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and she doesn’t have to be an emotion reader like Michael to know that he’s worried it wasn’t good. She grips his clean hand in her own and smiles breathlessly up at him. “God _damn_ , Dean.”

This, at least, gets him to crack a smile, so she considers it a win. She sits up on her elbows, her shirt falling back down, and kissing him. It’s a soft, sweet kiss, but then Dean moves his legs back from where they’d been bracketing her hips and she feels how hard he is against her thigh.

He immediately looks away from her, his jaw tensing. “Sorry--”

“No,” Cassie says, shushing him quietly. She cups his chin so he has to look at her, and she gently pushes him onto his back and sits up on her knees. “Let me.”

“Cassie,” Dean says, his voice catching. “You don’t have to--”

“I know I don’t have to.” It breaks her heart that he thinks she’s only doing this because she’s obligated to, when really she wants to make him fall apart and feel as good as he made her feel. “I _want_ to.”

He watches her with heavy eyes as she positions herself at his hips, trailing a finger along the waistband of his boxers. “I love you, you know,” she says almost casually, not missing the way Dean’s shoulders tense in her peripheral vision. “And not just because you just gave me one _hell_ of an orgasm.”

He laughs a little at that, and Cassie slides his boxers down before he can go back to being unsure of himself. “And now,” she continues, wrapping her hand around the base of his dick and relishing the way his breath hitches, “I’m going to give  _you_ one hell of an orgasm. Because I _want_ to.”

She licks a long line from the base of his dick to the head, moving her hair out of the way with her free hand, and then takes the head into her mouth. Dean makes a strangled sound, and when she lifts her gaze to him, she sees he’s propped up on his shoulders, watching her reverently. Keeping their gazes locked, she slowly takes in more of him, as much as she can without gagging. His expression, for once, is absolutely wrecked, and she hollows her cheeks, sucking hard.

“Cassie--” His voice is rough and breathy, and he fists the sheets in his hands. She thinks he’s probably restraining himself from thrusting into her mouth and hurting her, and she slowly pulls back off so she can kitten-lick the head. He makes a broken sound that goes straight to her core and she wraps her hands around his base again, taking the head into her mouth so she can jerk him off while she sucks him off. It’s a good combo.

Dean seems to think so too, because he drops his head back, his fingers tightening on the sheets. “Cassie Cassie Cassie,” he chants, his chest heaving, and she sucks him harder. She wants to make him come, wants him to see stars and feel weightless and feel as loved as he is--

She pulls her mouth off and licks another stripe up him, jerking him once, twice in her hand, and then he’s coming, his head thrown back and his mouth parted. She jerks him through his orgasm, leaning up and kissing along his chest. His fingers slowly loosen in the sheets and he exhales heavily beneath her, looking thoroughly spent. She lifts her head and kisses him, wondering if he can taste himself on her lips. When she pulls back, he gazes at her in awe, his pupils blown wide. “Thank you.”

She whacks his chest gently. “Don’t thank me. I enjoyed it.”

Dean quirks his mouth. “I did too.”

She laughs and he pulls a few tissues from the nightstand to clean them up. Cassie’s underwear is absolutely soaked, so she just kicks them off and tosses them in the general direction of her pajama pants. Her sleep shirt is big enough to double as a small dress, so she’s not worried. Dean tugs his boxers back on and then lays back down beside her, letting out a heavy sigh.

Cassie props her head up on her hand, peering down at him. “Better?”

Dean smiles softly at her, lifting a hand to brush his finger along her cheek. “Better.”

She catches his hand and presses a kiss to it before holding it over her heart and curling up against his side, feeling his arms encircle her so they can drift back to sleep together.


End file.
